


Sweet Cravings

by Mez10000



Category: Doctor Who: Scream of the Shalka
Genre: Always a good time for Shalka!Master, Drabble, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4099156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mez10000/pseuds/Mez10000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bored and alone, the Master decides to explore a closet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Cravings

Once again, the Doctor was off, gallivanting with some human or other, leaving the Master alone to roam the TARDIS. Like a pet. Some hound to sit and stay and guard. He would have thought the Doctor would have learnt his lesson regarding leaving the Master with more or less free reign (barring any destructive actions, but he had become used to the boundaries imposed and had long since learnt to be creative with them).

Currently, he was poking around what could loosely be termed a closet. It was a large room full of cast off clothing and items from the Doctor’s previous regenerations. The Master thought it was rather immature of him; constantly changing and discarding the old to make way for the new. Like a child, constantly reinventing himself to play the hero.

A suspiciously Doctor-like thought occurred to him: that maybe snooping around in people’s possessions was also immature. He quickly pushed that thought aside. If the Doctor did not want him looking though here, he should have thought of that before not restricting his access.

Just as he was debating what he could do to cause maximum disruption with a can of shaving cream, a hyper-Boleyn matter expander and a pack of playing cards with all the fives removed, the Master spotted a paper bag. Spotted may have been a tad charitable – what exactly he was looking for in a hidden corner of the room would be something he was more than willing to take to his grave. Again.

Unwrapping the bag, he found a collection of gelatinous figures, in the cartoonish shape of bipedal creatures in a variety of colours and covered in a fine powder. He vaguely remembered one of the Doctor’s previous regenerations being particularly fond of the confection.

Taking a moment to check he was not being observed, he withdrew one from the bag. It left powder all over his fingers. Deciding he may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, and curious, he placed the figure in his mouth, head first, and bit down.

He almost moaned at the sweetness that swept across his artificial taste buds. It carried a faint taste of a fruit he could not name and was not unpleasantly chewy. He swallowed, and soon the rest of the strange creature joined its head.

He wandered back to the central room of the TARDIS, trying to ignore the pleased hum she emitted.

“Mention or suggest this to the Doctor and I will find a way to get retribution, my dear,” he addressed the ship.

She, for her part, was big enough to acknowledge the threat as an admission of the Master’s own embarrassment at being caught in such a sentimental act.

If, sometimes, a jelly baby went missing mysteriously, the TARDIS did not do anything to alert her Doctor to it, and the Doctor did not let on that he had noticed any change in the number of jelly babies he had – for he had never quite shaken his sweet tooth.

Jelly babies were constantly going missing mysteriously, these days.


End file.
